Ave Maria
by La Romanesque
Summary: An opera singer is surrounded by mysterious deaths, and the Black Order suspects that Innocence may be involved. Cross finally meets Maria and makes a shocking first impression. This is the tragedy of Cross and Maria.
1. Chapter 1

Toma shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he gazed around the crowded Barcelona concert hall

Toma shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he gazed around the crowded Barcelona concert hall. _Keep your eyes and ears open, and if anything strange happens, use the telephone and call headquarters. In most cases, it's just imagination or coincidence playing strange tricks on people, but in some cases, these phenomena are the result of Innocence. _That was all the instruction he had received when he had offered up his life to the Black Order to become a Finder. The small, quiet young man was no longer dressed in his standard-issue canvas coat, and his wireless telephone was hidden away in his room in a nearby inn, but even in his evening wear (clean, but obviously cheap and ill-fitting) he kept the words of the supervisor in mind as he waited for the performance to begin. This was one of the least likely leads he had followed so far in his short career, but after several failures, he figured he could take a mission where he might he able to enjoy himself a bit as well.

The gas lamps around the theatre dimmed, and in a minute the only thing Toma could see clearly was the stage. Amidst a chorus of applause, a tall woman in a voluminous black dress walked to a small stand in the center and arranged her sheet music. Her appearance was striking: long black hair and dark lips emphasized fiercely confident eyes and expression. _Maria de Lourdes, _Toma thought, rolling the program in his hands so that her name was all he could see. _The Deadly Diva…arrested for chanting revolutionary anthems, and then given the chance to study opera because the jailers who heard her defiantly singing them in prison were entranced by her voice…but every performance she makes is marred by death…_

The woman on stage made a slight nod to the conductor, and the orchestra began a slow, melancholy tune.

Toma closed his eyes as he savored the sweet tones of Maria's deep, powerful voice. For a moment, he forgot his duties, the war, the akuma, the Millenium Earl, the Innocence he could search for but never wield. The music swelled and Toma smiled happily.

Suddenly, a scream came from the audience and Toma came to with a start. The conductor cut off the music with a swift motion, but Maria continued singing. The hysterical woman jumped out of her seat and ran for the door. A few steps down the aisle, she shuddered strangely and fell, and Maria stopped abruptly. Toma, from the balcony, heard the gasps from the audience and watched the woman's escort hurry to her side. After shaking her and feeling for breath and a pulse, the man stood up, horrified, and placed his hand over his mouth in shock. He exchanged words with the the usher, who had rushed over to see what was going on, and he ran to a telephone in the corner. Toma could see his mouth forming the word _morta_. The man on the phone motioned for the other usher to come to him, and after a hushed conversation, he took the stage beside a silent Maria and addressed the audience.

"_Senyors i Senyoras, _we are very sorry to announce that there has been a death here tonight in the audience. The police have been called, and for everyone's safety and the sake of the investigation, we request that everyone remain in the concert hall until they have been cleared by the police." A worried murmur rumbled throughout the building, and Toma stood up surreptitiously and walked down the stairs from the balcony to the main floor. Another usher stopped him at the bottom and asked him to go back to his seat.

"I'm a priest," Toma said. "This man needs the comfort of God in his time of need." He supposed that was true, in a way.

"I'm sorry, _senyor_, but no one may leave…"

"I'm not leaving, I promise you. Follow me if you wish, but I must talk with that man."

"I'm sorry, you'll have to wait for the police to come." The usher held out his arms to block Toma's way, but the Finder simply shook his head and went back up the stairs. He would have to wait, but that was fine; if anything, Toma was patient.

The police arrived several minutes later and took the body away on a stretcher. A man with a notebook took the woman's escort aside and Toma watched him talk as the detective jotted everything down. Behind him, the curtain to the balcony was pushed aside and a uniformed man announced that everyone was to line up single file and give their name and address to him as they left. Toma rose quickly and slid through the crowd of impatient concertgoers, gave his information to the policeman, and hurried down the stairs. On the ground floor, he saw his target tip his hat to the detective and head to the exit. Toma followed close behind.

Outside the air was cold and bracing. The cabbies waiting on the street rushed to ready their horses in response to the flood of people coming from the hall. The man called out to one, and Toma ran to reach it before the man stepped in.

"_Perdona, senyor, _where are you going? I need to get home quickly, and if I could share a cab that would be most appreciated," Toma said, hoping that his Catalan was not too suspiciously accented.

The man nodded sympathetically. "La Ribera, Carrer de Lafont."

Toma feigned happy relief. "My hotel is near that" he lied. His inn was in a shadier part of town, and he would have a long walk back, but he had to get this man's story to confirm his suspicions._ "Gràcies, senyor," _Toma said as he mounted the cab. The cabbie waited for the door to close, and then snapped the reins and sped away.

The man put his head in his hand and stared out the window uncomfortably as Toma settled in the opposite seat.

"Are you all right, _senyor_?" Toma asked. "The woman who died. Was she your wife?"

The man shook his head. "No, she was my sister-in-law. My brother, her husband, died a few weeks ago. She hadn't been out of the house since it happened, no one even saw her for days. I thought a concert might cheer her up."

"I'm sorry," Toma said. "It's not my place to pry."

"It's all right, thank you for your concern," the man said, and then fell silent again.

_Probable effects of Innocence: death likely that of an akuma,_ Toma thought. They sat without speaking further. Toma watched the buildings roll by, then, looking ahead, chose a likely-looking inn a few streets ahead. Leaning his head out of the window, he called to the cabbie. "_allà, si us plau_." Horses snorted lightly as the cab bumped to a stop over the cobblstone street and Toma opened the door. After handing his fare to the cabbie, he walked into the inn and watched the carriage roll away. _That man's kind heart could have killed hundreds of people at that concert. He was lucky. _And so was Toma. His first successful lead! He sat down at a table and ordered a glass of beer from the waitress. He lifted the amber liquid to toast his accomplishment to himself.

He pulled the evening's program from his coat pocket and studied it. _Maria de Lourdes. _She would be singing for a different battle now, whether she wanted to or not.

* * *

**Authors' notes: Yet another collaboration between Quercus and La Romanesque. **

**This one is all Quercus, though. My stuff's not till later. She would like to note that she did her best with the Catalan, and that Toma is awesome. Maria's name and her prison story are loosely based on the life of a 19th century Catalan opera singer.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-La Romanesque**

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

"You're sure it's an Innocence? Yes, there are exorcists available to investigate further. I'll send Cross to Spain on the next morning train. Your orders are to stay in the area and watch for signs of gathering akuma, and to protect the accommodator to the best of your abilities. Yes. Thank you, Mr. Toma." The supervisor hung up the phone and turned to his assistant.

"A Finder has reported the existence of a compatible user in Barcelona, a woman by the name of Maria de Lourdes. At first impression she appears to have a Parasitic-type Innocence that makes use of her voice to kill akuma." He turned to his map of Europe and fiddled with the pins that represented the Finders currently on missions. "I want you to find Cross and tell him I have a job for him."

The assistant looked displeased. "Cross? I wonder, sir, if that would be wise when dealing with a… female accommodator. He's also not the most reliable of the staff on hand; I think someone more stable might be more convincing. Marie from Tiedoll's group seems promising, or Tiedoll himself, if the general isn't too busy…"

The supervisor chuckled. "She's a singer, Dashwood. Bohemians rarely get along well with the clergy, and this one is particularly feisty. Involved with Catalan revolutionaries, if the reports are correct. It might take all the, hm, _charisma_ that Cross has to get her to come." An expression of weariness passed over the supervisor's face. "I think everyone would much prefer that Maria become an exorcist of her own free will, rather than being coerced." He turned his attention back to the pile of papers stacked on his desk. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

The assistant bowed grudgingly and left with a muttered "yes, chief."

After about fifteen minutes of poring over the latest research reports, the supervisor's work was cut short by Dashwood's return.

"Um, Supervisor? Cross seems to be missing from headquarters…"

--

"Your taste in wine is impeccable as always, Marian." A blonde woman with a small gray monkey perched on her shoulder sipped delicately at a rich merlot while her drinking partner, a tall man whose long hair matched her beverage, gazed silently across the table. "Is that why I let you convince me to go AWOL tonight?"

He smiled devilishly and placed a gloved hand under her chin, tracing the faint scars there with his thumb. "Beauty attracts beauty."

Cloud was ashamed to find herself flushing, whether from the compliment or the alcohol she couldn't tell, until suddenly Lau Shimin lashed his paw out and chattered jealously at the rival for his mistress' attention. A line of bright red appeared on Cross' hand, and she chuckled smugly. Cross smiled back, ignoring the blood blossoming over his white glove. Only after a brief pause did he remove his hand to take a sip of his own wine.

"I see you already have a loyal companion. 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds/ admit impediment.'" Cross set down his glass and Cloud noticed a hint of curiosity enter his otherwise suave and flirtatious tone as he asked, "Tell me, does he do that on his own or are you trying to tell me something?"

"What do you mean, on his own?"

"Of his own will, sua voluntate," Cross said, picking up his wine again and swirling it idly. "Is he not a slave to your bidding, as all we humble males dazzled by your grace?"

Cloud couldn't help but giggle at that line, ridiculous even for him. "He obeys me when I synchronize with the Innocence, but otherwise he's just a monkey."

The curiousity remained in his eyes, but Cross' indelible philogyny overcame it and he said, "So that's not what you think of me?"

Cloud closed her eyes and shook her head, taking refuge in her wine glass once again. She was a capable woman in battle, but she felt far out of her league in this conversation; the older exorcist was much better at the art of seduction than she could counter with argument. Finally, after deliberation, she spoke. "I think you are a valuable exorcist with a great deal of skill."

Cross leaned back and lifted his arm in the air, reciting. "'If we had world enough and time/ this coyness, lady, were no crime…' It is precisely because we are exorcists that we should seize the moment. Always living close to death…No? Well, then," he continued, to Cloud's utter embarassment as ladies at the other tables pointed in their direction "'We would sit down and think which way/ to walk, and pass our long love's day…'"

"But at my back I always hear/ Time's winged chariot hurrying near." A deep voice interrupted Cross, and a grey-haired man seated himself next to Cloud. "I must cut your rendez-vous short, I fear. Another mission always presses." Froi Tiedoll smiled warmly, willfully ignoring the relief emanating from Cloud and the irritation from Cross. "I'm terribly sorry, Cloud, but Marian has been called on to investigate an Innocence in Spain. The Supervisor wants him to leave tomorrow morning, so it is vital that he is ready right away."

"No, that's fine, General," she said, as Lau Shimin ran up the general's arm and began picking at Tiedoll's curly gray mane. "I feel a bit tired as it is, Marian. We ought to go back."

Cross stood up and bowed sweepingly. "As you wish, my lady." While Tiedoll was busy disentagling the monkey's fingers from his hair, Cross removed his bloodstained glove to offer Cloud a hand up. She took it cooly, but was astonished to notice that there was no trace of a wound there at all. She looked at him quizzically, and he merely winked with his one visible eye. Tiedoll pulled a crumpled fold of bills from an inside coat pocket and handed it to the waiter, telling him to keep the change and thanking him for taking such good care of his children. The trio of black-garbed figures departed to gazes of awe from the rest of the restaurant's patrons, who were well familiar with the Black Order and her apostles.

"So then, general," Cross began as they walked into the brisk night air, Tiedoll leading and the younger exorcists following close behind, "there wouldn't be a chance that Miss Nine here might be able to accompany me? After all, it's a dangerous job, and it's so easy for one to get lost crossing the Pyrenees…" Cloud believed it was very possible that Cross would take an opportunity such as this to desert the Order he seemed to despise so much, but she was certainly not going to volunteer to babysit the man, who was much more interested in discovering what was underneath her clothes than any new Innocence fragments.

Tiedoll chuckled. "No, there's no need to worry about that. You'll take the train to Marseilles, and then head to Barcelona by boat. No need for mountaineering at all. It's a pity, though, I've heard the countryside is beautiful."

"I'm sure," Cross said irritably. They walked in silence for a few meters, until Cross finally gave in and asked, "Just how did you manage to find us, General?"

"Oh, you really thought that you could blend in?" Tiedoll asked with a grin. "I just asked around for a red-haired man in a mask and a blond woman carrying a monkey on her shoulder. Even if you weren't wearing exorcists' uniforms, you two certainly don't have the most pedestrian appearances in the order."

Cross smiled at that. "Of course not," he said wryly.

"It's been too long since we last saw each other," Tiedoll continued, "so when the supervisor asked for someone to search for you and Cloud I decided to go. It's so rare that I have time to return to headquarters; I miss everyone sometimes when I'm all alone on my expeditions." The hint of a tear began to show in the general's eye. "Little Cloud had just found her Innocence the last time I was here, and Lau Shimin was just a baby…look how much they've both grown."

"Stop talking like an old man already, Tiedoll," Cross scoffed. "Women don't go for the paternal types, you know. For someone who acts like everyone is his child, I somehow doubt that there are any little Tiedolls running around out there."

""I've never been married, if that's what you're suggesting," Tiedoll responded.

"You know perfectly well that is not what I mean," Cross said.

"Perhaps you ought to start acting a little older, Marian," Tiedoll quipped. "Women don't exactly go for the libidinous adolescent types either." Turning an apologetic face to Cloud, Tiedoll said "Please excuse Marian, he doesn't know how to behave around ladies, and sometimes he forgets that he's a priest."

Cloud opened her mouth to protest that she was perfectly capable of handling Cross herself, but he interrupted her.

"Oh, I always remember that I'm a priest. I'm always willing to take the confession of a lady who suddenly finds herself guilty of fornication. Right after the fact, if need be."

Spotting the imposing crenellations of the tower that served as the Black Order's headquarters, Tiedoll broke the mood with an excited outburst, "Ah, here we are! It's good to be home at last, eh?"

"Delighted," Cross said sarcastically.

--

**Author's notes**

**Sorry this took so long... and that nothing really happens. I just had so much fun writing Cross that the conversations ended up longer than intended. I hope I was able to keep them in character. The next chapter should be a little more plotty/explanatory. Enjoy! Review!**

**-Quercus**

**I formally apologize for being a lame co-author. Review anyway!**

**-La Romanesque**

edit: I completely forgot to cite my poetry!

The first quotation is from Shakespeare, Sonnet CVXI. (let me not to the marriage of true minds/admit imepediment. Love is not love... etc.) hehe, you can tell I just watched Sense and Sensibility; that's the one Marianne recites to Willoughby, and then the name for the random secretary.

The second poem, started by Cross and then cut in by Tiedoll, is Andrew Marvell (1621-1678) "To His Coy Mistress"


	3. Chapter 3

Cross left early the next morning, so early that the sky was still dark when he hopped his train. No one had come to see him off, but he preferred it that way. He found it better to keep his superiors in the dark as to his comings and goings as much as possible. It was easier to avoid missions if they were never entirely certain that he would come back. More importantly, he thought, the extra hour would give him time to stop by the bar before being dragged to some endless opera.

Unfortunately for him, Toma was an exceptionally punctual man. So punctual, in fact, that he had already been waiting at the train station for a quarter hour when Cross arrived fifty-five minutes ahead of schedule. Cross was sure that Toma was smiling devilishly underneath that stupid balaclava of his. The two men departed for a supporter's house to dine and debrief. The general nursed his glass of wine as much as he could, but got nowhere near the pleasantly drunk buzz he had hoped for.

They arrived at the opera house as the first act began. _I'm entirely too sober to sit through three hours of this_, Cross thought, fidgeting in his seat next to Toma, who was as calm and attentive as ever. He fell asleep sometime before intermission, only to be awoken by a piercing scream. He then promptly went back to dreaming when he realized that the sound had been theatrical, and not any demon harbinger. The rest of the performance passed as uneventfully. When the curtain finally fell, Toma gently nudged the snoring exorcist and motioned for him to follow.

Cross opened the door to the ladies' dressing room without so much as knocking, and stepped inside quietly. Toma, as always, took up his post in the hall and leaned against the doorframe.

Maria had her back to the entry, seated at a vanity wiping the kohl from her eyes. She had already shed most of her ostentatious costume, and in the reflection of the mirror, Cross had a peerless view of her prodigiously corseted bosom. He smirked inwardly. His reputation as something of a Don Juan had already begun circulating the Order, and he was certain the higher ups knew by now. Perhaps that was why he'd gotten this job. He was almost obligated to goggle. The Lord works in mysterious ways, he thought, and thanked the God he barely believed in for supplying him with such a diverting occupation. Which brought him to the job at hand. He began to clear his throat to announce his presence, but before he could utter a sound, she spoke. Her eyes were still closed.

"I assume you're here about the deaths."

He started slightly, which turned his intended "ahem" into an alarming choking noise. She opened her eyes, and now coolly regarded him in the silvered glass.

Cross was slightly taken aback by her exceptional perception and her calm demeanor in a somewhat compromising position. As… liberal… as he was in his own views, it behooved a lady to be at least bit indignant at being taken unawares in her under things. He coughed once more to hide his surprise.

"Ah, the deaths. Yes, that's why I'm here. In part, yes."

"I see." She turned to face him, straddling the chairback and leaning her chin on her fists. "And just what is the other part?"

"I'm interested in your talents."

She raised an eyebrow. "Which talents are those?"

She was smiling cheekily, he noticed. A charming girl. Eventually, he'd have to stop flirting, but he didn't want to, yet. He grinned without answering.

His silence seemed to irk her.

"Well?" She stood up and glared at him, her arms crossed forbiddingly. "Who are you, anyway? I'm not in the habit of accepting offers from unannounced strangers. Were I any other woman you'd have run blushing out of the room by now. The nerve of men!"

Cross apologized. Her voice had risen as she grew more agitated, and the sound made his ears ring, but he didn't stop smiling. She was even more beautiful angry, he decided, and he never stopped smiling for beautiful women. "I'm a priest, though, so you shouldn't worry. My name is Cross Marian. I'm an exorcist from the Black Order. We're a branch of the Vatican that specializes in demon… hm,… shall we say, expulsion. We believe that you possess an ability that would be very useful to our cause. I'd like to discuss the terms of ordination with you, if you're not unwilling. But perhaps you'd like to dress first."

She snorted. "I'm a performer, Mr. Marian. I've been seen in far less by a great deal larger audience than yourself. Loose morals come with the profession. Yet somehow you want me to join the clergy."

"I'm afraid moral delinquency's not as highly demanded in the priestly order," Cross said, "but I don't let that stop me."

"I suspected not. I thank you for the offer, and for your visit. However, I am afraid that I must decline, Mr. Marian. I cannot leave the opera."

Her voice had taken on a sweet tone that nearly lulled him into complacency. She walked towards him, and before he knew it had an arm about his waist, gently guiding him towards the door. She murmured something about putting the whole mess behind them. Death was so common these days, she went on, that these unexplained instances were regrettable but wholly irrelevant, didn't he think?

"Yes, regrettable," he answered. He stopped. Something was odd about the situation, he was sure. Why was he leaving already? There was a moment of silence as she opened the door to show him out, and then he realized.

His hand covered hers entirely as she began to turn the doorknob. He began prying her fingers away from the handle.

She spoke, her voice a hum in his ears. "I'm not sure, Mr. Marian, that you want to be doing that."

Her hand floated inches above the knob, her wrist still in his grasp. But Cross paused only briefly. He was close enough to her now to notice the delicate cross embedded in her throat. With the silver chain she wore, the untrained eye would be easily fooled into thinking it a necklace. But Cross was an exorcist, with all the evidence he needed to realize the power she possessed. He only needed one free hand to draw Judgment.

The barrel of Cross' pistol rested on Maria's collarbone. If she was surprised, it didn't show. As she drew in a breath to scream, the green flare of the cross reflected in the silver of Judgment's sides, and Cross let go of her wrist to clamp his hand firmly over her mouth.

"Funny, isn't it, that they call what we've got Innocence. A fine name for degenerates like us. Now I'm going to let you go, and you're going to tell me how it is that you already know about innocence and demons and the lot. Alright? And no singing. The slightest hum and I'll shoot. Oh, it probably won't kill you, which I assume you've realized given the nature of the ammunition, but I wouldn't want to see what happens to your voice."

She didn't respond, but in this case Cross took her silence for consent. He lowered the hand that covered her lips, but kept his pistol where it was.

"Well, I suppose this is an improvement from the blatant womanizing," she stated flatly, "the gun pointed at my head at least means that I'm being taken seriously. But I have no idea what you're talking about. Demons and nonsense. You've made a mistake."

Cross shook his head. "I don't think so. No one would be as flippant as you are about such a large number of deaths without knowing the truth. And you are, I grant you, quite skilled with that innocence of yours, too skilled for a naïf. I need to know how you found out and who trained you. If one word gets out, one breath of the Black Order's existence, the whole organization will be compromised. The situation, I fear, is quite grave. So, if you care not to divulge, I'm afraid I'll have to assume you are a spy of the Millennium Earl. And while this may not kill you-"

he tipped back her chin with Judgment's barrel

-this might."

In one deft motion he'd pulled a switchblade from his coat and held it poised at her neck.

* * *

**Authors' Note: (still co-written by Quercus and La Romanesque, but this is...) My first chapter! It moves a bit too quickly, I think, but if I was going to have to go through and extend everything, I don't think this would ever have gotten up, and it's been long enough as it is. Isn't it getting exciting?? I still haven't told Quercus what I've got in mind for Maria. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Please review and crit! Ideas are welcome too! I think that's enough exclamation points for now. Peace,**

**La Romanesque**


	4. Chapter 4

"You move quickly, Mr. Marian. From ogling to death threats in mere minutes."

"Beautiful women are always the most dangerous, but that doesn't mean they aren't worthy of a look."

"Don't you think these pleasantries are somewhat out of context?"

"Considering that I told you to tell me where you learned about your Innocence and not to whisper sweet nothings, yes, I do."

His knife had not moved from where it rested on her throat.

Suddenly Toma whispered urgently through the door.

"Sir Cross! Someone's coming down the hall. Hide."

And then he was gone, off to listen behind some door, Cross was sure. Toma's warning was replaced by the sound of footsteps and a devil-may-care voice humming the evening's aria. Then a knock.

Cross moved fast. He recognized that knock. It was the knock of the returning husband, coming back to his faithful wife. It was the knock of the lover returning to his beloved. In short, it was a knock he was accustomed to avoiding. Though the situation was somewhat different this time, he'd rather not have to explain the existence of demons and a top secret Catholic organization if he could at all avoid it. The switchblade was back in his pocket in an instant. Judgment reappeared at his hip a second later. He slipped behind the costume rack, leaving Maria standing alone in the middle the floor. She looked shocked for an instant, then returned to her vanity and took up her makeup brush once more. Her hands shook only slightly as she dipped into her powder. Cross hoped that she would have the sense not to mention him. From the looks of it, though, she was as intent on concealing his presence as he was, for which he was grateful, if puzzled. He wondered who this person might be to warrant such a response. Crouched behind the row of frothy gowns, he decided to risk being noticed for the clear view of the door his present position gave him. He didn't have time to move anyway.

There was a second knock.

"One moment," Maria called. She stood up to grab her dressing gown, wrapping it firmly around her person before heading towards the door. Cross smiled inwardly. Exactly why he never knocked.

"Come in."

The first thing Cross saw when the door opened was a black top hat. As the man bowed his way into the room, the hat was soon removed to reveal a head of black hair, long and slightly curled. The ringlets spilled over the collar of his immaculately tailored suit, framing his broad smile.

"My dear Maria! You were wonderful tonight! Simply suberb!"

Maria smiled at the man. He took a step in and the two met, clasping hands and exchanging a kiss.

Cross had no idea whether her apparent affection for this man was real or feigned, though he suspected the latter. Many women he knew would have burst into tears after being threatened by him, but this one was apparently quite skilled at controlling her emotions.

She spoke in a convincingly excited tone.

"Sherrill, darling, I've been expecting you! Where are we going tonight? What shall I wear?"

"Wherever you like and whatever you like, Maria. You know I find you ravishing regardless of vestments."

The knowing twinkle in his eye was matched by a pretty blush in her cheeks. More acting, Cross was certain. He'd caught her nearly nude and not elicited so much as a pale pink. But why was she so intent on pleasing this man?

"As your patron, might I suggest this?"

Sherrill pulled a string of pearls from his fob pocket, allowing the strand to drip from his fingers and catch the glow of the lamp.

Maria smiled

"Darling, you shouldn't have. My, but they are beautiful."

"Nothing to you, dear."

She turned her back to Sherrill and pulled her hair off her neck so that he could fasten the pearls. She faced him once more and lightly touched the strand in a very fetching manner. The two exchanged another glowing look before Maria shooed Sherrill out of the room to change. Cross felt almost privileged to be allowed to stay, and grinned at his good luck. As soon as her patron had left the room, she stripped back down to her corset and drawers. Facing her wardrobe, her back was to the rack of costumes where the exorcist hid. Cross took his chance.

He leaped up from his hiding place and was across the room in a heartbeat, his knife back out and back at her throat.

Maria made no noise, and simply sighed at Cross' intrusive behavior.

"Mr. Marian, this is not the time, nor the place for this conversation.

"One word of this," Cross began, "and I will kill you both. We'll continue our little chat later."

She rolled her eyes.

"Sherrill, darling!"

Cross swore under his breath. He threw himself towards the wall and flattened himself behind the door. Luckily the man opened the door a mere crack, and apparently missed the heavy breathing mere inches away.

"Which do you prefer, the black dress, or the purple one?" Maria asked.

"The black. Sets offs my hair better. Is that all dear? And please do hurry, or all the restaurants will be full up."

"In a moment, darling."

The door closed and Maria continued dressing. She had adjusted the black gown to her best advantage, then walked over to Cross as although he were a piece of furniture. She turned her back to him and held her hair off her neck in the same gesture she had made towards Sherrill a moment ago.

"Buttons, please," she whispered mockingly to the General. She was quite pleased that the man should play maidservant, if only for a moment.

"Anything for a lady," Cross replied, just as ironically, and began fastening the dress. He finished and bowed, and made to open the door for her. This time her hand was on his as they turned the knob. He winked as she left, but she simply looked straight ahead towards her waiting patron. She closed the door behind her.

Cross waited until the footsteps had faded before reemerging into the hallway.

"Toma!"

The finder emerged from the shadowy corner he had concealed himself in.

"Follow them. Find out where they're going and where he lives. I'm going to get her address from the director. I'll meet you tomorrow morning at your hotel."

The finder nodded, and ran off towards the hallway the couple had taken. Cross went a few doors down, and knocked at the next dressing room. A lovely young girl answered. _The chorus_, Cross thought, _how perfect_. One of them was sure to know where the diva lived, if only he could charm it out of them…

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**Author's Notes: Sorry it's a little shorter. I'm not exactly sure how to spell Sherrill's name, but I don't think there's an official version yet so I guess it's good enough. He recently showed up in the manga, for those of you who are a little behind or only watch the anime. Anyway, enjoy! Review!!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

We are not in fact dead! So please enjoy this next chapter.

* * *

Cross sat in the dark apartment for nearly three hours. Although the chorus had been somewhat alarmed by his entrance into their dressing room, a quick story about a newspaper review and seeing their names in print calmed their indignation quickly enough. _Although not their voices, _he thought as he recalled the shriek with which one particularly excitable soprano had responded to the fabrication. _No, they were really some lovely girls…_ a few had even made some less than subtle invitations after he had finished the "interview" and casually asked for Maria de Lourde's contact information, but the mysterious and fearless diva had caught his attention and he was certainly not going to miss her for mere skirt. And, against most popular opinion, he felt a responsibility for his duty as well. While many believed that the womanizing exorcist would give up anything for a glass of wine and the promise of indiscretion, he'd come to accept the necessity of abstinence on occasion in order to save mankind from destruction and enslavement at the hands of the Millenium Earl.

Cross had searched the house first, of course, to check for caches of letters or hidden weapons, but came upon nothing more threatening than a well-stocked cellar of spirits. Though tempted, he had left it alone, his gentleman's code of conduct preventing him from stealing anything from a lady. He was sure he could get her to gift him freely anyway, once he had warmed her up properly. As such, there was precious little to do besides get comfortable on the parlor couch and wait for Maria to return. He brought out a book from a coat pocket, a recent treatise on newly discovered species from the Royal Society, and pondered the mysteries of Nature.

Maria returned around two o'clock. Cross had succumbed to his thirst by that time, and was nursing a glass of brandy when she walked in.

"You…" she hissed.

"Surely you were expecting me?"

She frowned.

"I thought you'd follow me to Sherrill's first. But I see you've anticipated me."

He nodded, grinning. "I'm lucky that you did come back. You might have spent the night with your patron. But I assumed you'd be the type to come and go."

She slapped him. "You're trespassing, for one, and second, you have no grounds on which to criticize me for… for…" she spluttered.

"Flirtation?" he suggested, offering her a glass of her own wine.

She snatched it from his hand and took a sip, then downed it in a gulp. She threw the glass back at him. It hit the badge on his coat and shattered.

"Come now, Maria."

"That's Senyora. De Lourdes." Her voice was humming dangerously.

He felt the resonance of her innocence and stood up, a rain of crystal falling from his lap.

"I was trying to be nice." He picked up a shard from the floor and stepped towards her. She stood her ground. "I would prefer that this not become violent." He lazily drew a circle of blood around he cross embedded in her throat. She grimaced.

"Mr. Marian, if you're trying to convince me that you're on the good side, you're failing miserably."

"Good? I never said such a thing. We are, however, the side that is trying to keep you alive, if not necessarily comfortable." She winced as he sliced deeper into her flesh. "We expect you to help us in return, of course, but I think the trade is reasonable, don't you?" She gasped. Her innocence flared green.

In a second Cross had drawn Judgment and shot her through the chest. She stumbled backwards and landed hard on the floor. She lay splayed out amidst her petticoats, her head tilted back at a dangerous angle. Cross was afraid that he'd perhaps overestimated her ability, and had done her real harm. Her body started to convulse. He put Judgement away and decided that he should probably call the case closed. He needed to get out of there before he was tried for murder.

Just as he turned his back, he heard a faint wheezing. She twitched a few more times on the floor, and then she sat up to face him. Tears of laughter streamed down her face and mingled with the blood dripping down her chest, where a massive bruise was beginning to form.

"Well done, Sir," she croaked, still laughing, "I've been through entire battles without such a scratch. Well done."

Standing up shakily, she asked, "So is that the sort of thing they teach you at the Black order? Such power. Alright then, Mr. Marian. I'll tell you my whole bloody life story."

Cross knelt down to where she sat on the floor. Bruised, battered, bloody, but laughing, he had never seen such a beautiful woman. He kissed the nape of her neck, and then smiled at her, his lips bright with blood. "That's more like it."

* * *

Maria was not the only one who had someone waiting for her to arrive home that night. Well, clearly Sherrill's butler was still up, awaiting and preparing for his master's return. As well as his kitchen staff, ready with soup, bread and coffe for his post-evening supper. And the maids, who made sure tha his bedding was washed and his bath ready. But that was to be expected, and hardly consequential. Another, rather more unanticipated guest awaited Sherrill as his driver pulled up to the grand townhouse he kept on the outskirts of the city.

"Good evening, Sherrill, my dear boy!" a jolly voice surprised the young man as he was entrusting his hat and coat to the butler at the door. Sherrill hurried at once to the sitting room off of the foyer, where he was met with a familiar face, or rather, the lack of one. It had taken Sherrill several meetings to accustom himself to the tenacity with which the shadows seemed to cling to his master's visage.

"Good evening, Earl," he replied. "What brings you to my humble dwelling tonight?"

"Does a father need an excuse to call on his beloved son?" the Millenium Earl grinned, a disembodied row of flashing teeth beneath his ever-present hat.

"Oh no, of course not," Sherril gushed. "Please, you are always welcome. Would you like something to drink? Coffee?" Sherrill snapped his fingers and waved to the maid hovering at the doorway.

"Just some tea, thank you very much," the Earl said. The two inquired after each other's health and talked about the weather until the maid came back from the kitchens bearing a silver platter and tea set. Pleasanteries were one of Sherrill's favorite pasttimes; he could ramble on about nothing for hours. It was a useful skill, in high society, and it was why the Earl trusted him for this duty above the rest of the 'family.'

"Please enjoy," the girl said, smiling, and Sherril couldn't help but smile back.

"One moment, my dear girl," the Earl said. "Would you be so kind as to fetch some milk as well?"

"Oh!" the maid gasped, and bowed deeply. "Please forgive my incompetence, Senyor Millenium. I'll get it right away." She hurried off in the direction from which she had come, skirts flouncing.

Sherrill smiled again, in spite of himself. Such an adorable and demure little woman. Which was why he had hired her, of course. He turned back to the Earl.

"Still sticking to the English ways, then?" Sherrill asked facetiously. "And you keep telling us to blend in and adapt to local customs…"

"Actually," the Earl broke in, "it is about the English matter that I've come here tonight." He stirred the third lump of sugar into his tea and laid the spoon on the saucer with a soft clink. His air had suddenly changed, the jolliness and frivolity now backed with a threat of menace. "Have you obtained any new information that might help to lead us to the Fourteenth? The opera singer is the best lead we have had, but as you know, her innocence is quite powerful…"

Sherrill smirked, just slightly. He'd always thought it romantic, the impossible love between the Noah and the bearer of that most deadly to him, Innocence… not that he was in love with Maria, no, she was too brash for his taste, but the thought of such achingly beautiful tragedy still appealed to him…

"Which means we must finish with her before the Black Order can interfere," the Earl said insistently, snapping Sherril out of his reverie. "I trust that you are not letting your feelings get in the way of your job, my boy?"

Sherrill smiled. "Of course not. But as for the Black Order, I'm afraid they're already interested. An exorcist showed up this evening at the performance." He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought of the man, whose rather ungentlemanly conversation with Senyora de Lourdes he had heard throught the door of her dressing room. "He seemed to take a special interest in our prima donna. However…" Sherrill paused for dramatic effect, but the Earl showed no sign of perturbation or interest. "However, I am hopeful that with an exorcist around, Senyora de Lourdes might attempt to seek out the family with whom she studied while in England, either to flee the clutches of the order or tell them of her intent to join them, or, if our suspicions are correct, to perhaps gather more information about the identity of the Fourteenth. A family with one natural and one adopted son, whose name, as I have discovered…" Sherrill paused again, and this time there seemed to be a hint of glee in the way his master set down his teacup and diverted his full attention to Sherrill's speech. "…is Walker."

* * *

Author's notes: Tantalizing, I hope. The next chapter should be more explanatory. Thanks for reading, and please leave a review! All comments are very much appreciated.


	6. Chapter 6

Maria shook her head at Cross and laughed hoarsely again.

"You're incorrigible, Mr. Marian. You're forewarned, though, I'm starting at the very beginning."

Cross nodded. "Proceed." He settled onto the floor next to her, cushioned a little by the petticoats splayed around her legs.

She leaned back on her elbows and closed her eyes, remembering.

_Senyora de Lourdes moaned, lying on her bed in a state of half consciousness. Little Maria, rising from her small cot nearby, padded across the floor in her nightgown. She laid her head on her mother's shoulder. She shuddered. Maria smoothed her mother's hair, shushing her. Smiling, she started to sing. Her mother rolled onto her side, curling her knees to her chest. Maria was glad that her mother was getting some rest now. She could not see the tears streaming down the woman's cheeks. _

Cross couldn't see the tears in her eyes either, for which she was grateful.

"My first encounter with an akuma was when I was very young, though I didn't understand at the time. My father died before my eighth birthday, and my mother never really recovered. She was bedridden for a month, at least, with an inexplicable illness. The doctors couldn't say what it was. She couldn't bear to touch me, and she would cry when I tried to talk to her. Luckily I had an aunt with whom I was very close, who took care of me. She was young, and loved to chant nursery rhymes and other such nonsense, which I joined in, happy to have a companion. I realize now that that singing is probably the only reason my aunt is still alive today. In the end, my mother just faded away. Yet, I swear to you that I heard her soul singing in heaven that day.

"I was orphaned, I suppose, but my mother's family took me in, and we moved to England, so that, at my aunt's behest, I could attend music school. That's where I met the Walkers."

She looked over at Cross, whose hat had begun to tip forward dangerously, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"For someone who felt the need to break into my home just to ask some questions, you seem terribly uninterested."

"Forgive me for being unmoved by the plight of the parentless. What is the point of this?"

"Perhaps if you'd let me finish," Maria said, "You'd find out. Like you, I didn't realize it at first. But I suspect that the younger Walker brother, Christian, is a Noah."

Cross looked surprised. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that.

"How do you know about the Noah? Any information on those aberrations is strictly classified."

"Unlike you, I suspect, Mr. Marian, I have not been snooping through restricted intelligence files. So if you're going to punish anyone for being a spy, start with yourself. I don't suppose you've ever met a Noah, have you, General?"

"And you're so sure you have?" Crossed sounded unconvinced.

Maria didn't reply for a moment. She looked suspiciously at Cross. "I'm not sure I should tell you, if the matter is so secret."

"It's your duty as an exorcist."

"I had no idea you cared so much for duty, Mr. Marian."

Cross shrugged.. "No, I suppose I don't find that argument very convincing either. I have been threatening to kill you, though."

"You've had plenty of chances."

"That's true. But even if I don't kill you, you're going to tell or die. Either you come back with me to the Order and they torture it out of you, or you don't come with me, and you'll be assassinated as a liability. Once the Black Order knows that you've seen the truth, you can't go back. At least with me," he grinned, "any torture is voluntary, and there's a chance that I won't kill your Noah friend the minute I find him."

He paused to let the ultimatum sink in.

"So would you like to tell me why you suspect his boy to be a Noah?

They sat in silence. Maria fingered the innocence in her neck. At last she continued.

"Christian Walker was an exceptionally talented pianist. A prodigy, I imagine. If I'd have been his brother, I'm not sure I could have stood it. But Mana Walker was one of the most even tempered and selfless people I've ever met. They'd accompany me, coax me into practicing far more than I would have if left to my own devices. In turn I'd coax them into sneaking out and other acts of mischief. We were inseparable. But strange things started happening our final year. We were almost eighteen. For Christian the day couldn't come soon enough that he could get leave his family. At first he just started acting differently. He'd snap at me for not being serious enough, and complained of headaches. He locked himself in the practice room for days, playing and composing. He refused to accompany me. Mana sat outside the practice hall, waiting for him to calm down, but I was livid. When he finally came out, he looked like death, but seemed happier than he'd been in a long time. He said he'd discovered something about himself. I was too relieved to stay angry at him for long, but Mana seemed nervous, uncharacteristically."

"We'd arranged to practice together, like before. I was singing a mass, one of many they made us perform on Sundays. It was simple enough that I could concentrate more on Christian. He still looked pale, and he was sweating as though the piece, which he'd played dozens of times, were a particularly taxing one. Halfway through, he stopped. I was still singing. He was trembling so hard the bench was nearly shaking, then he put his hands over his ears and yelled at me to shut up. I stopped singing to see what was wrong. It looked like he was bleeding, but I couldn't figure out the cause. He held his hands out to me as I rushed over, dripping red down his fingers. There were gashes on both his palms. I started ripping my petticoats to bandage them, but he kept bleeding. His forehead seemed about to split apart in a crown of bloody Xs. In a strange way, I suppose, that was when things seemed to make sense. I'd read enough penny dreadfuls about the paranormal to see the signs of stigmata in my friend.

Christian was never really the same after that. He had strange dreams about demons and some plot to destroy the world. I thought taking him home with me might help take his mind off of things. Our music tutor set him and Mana up to tour Catalonia, and I went along to sing a little, and to interpret.

He never made it to the first concert. Christian had become convinced that he had to get involved in the revolutionary movement. Him! I'm Catalonian, and I didn't even care. But every time I asked him why, he simply told me that he knew it was what he had to do. Fool I was, I believed him, which is how I ended up passing messages as a spy.

He was right though. One of the Catalonians leaders was a former scientist from the Black Order. The war was a front to combat the akuma that were being installed in the Spanish government. He had left the order because he thought the higher ups were too losing sight of the battle in their efforts to create more powerful soldiers. He told me about the human experimentation, the fallen, crows." Maria shuddered. "When I told him about the stigmata, he told me to watch out for Christian, that we could soon expect him to lose himself completely to the Noah inside him.

"Then things took a turn for the worse. Christian had gone into hiding, fleeing the conflict he'd been so eager to join. Our leader was killed by one of his own men. I still don't know whether it was the work of the Earl, or an assassin from the Black Order to keep their secrets from getting out. Mana and I were arrested, and the revolution died."

"I made it out of prison thanks to Sherrill. My aunt disowned me when she found out that I had been convicted of espionage. Mana is still captive, though he should be safe where he is. I never told him about the innocence, or akuma, or the earl. You know the rest. Sherrill is my patron now, and I sing."

Cross shifted where he was sitting next to her on the floor. "Quite the story."

"It's the truth."

He nodded, lost in thought for a moment.

"Have you ever wondered why Sherrill bailed you out?"

Maria shook her head. "No. He's just an average wealthy man, a little more frivolous than some. A romantic. But as long as he's paying, I can stay here and look for Christian."

"And what will you do when you find him?"

"I don't know. I can't take him back to the Order. I'm not sure what they'd do with a live Noah on their hands. There's nowhere safe from the Earl. If he returns to England and starts touring again, if he reclaims his celebrity, he might be safe for a while. If he's famous enough, the Earl can't touch him without alerting the world."

"And you?"

She looked down at the space between them. Cross put his hand on hers, which clenched the fabric of her petticoat. "I'll join the Order. I'll become an exorcist. Maybe then they'll have less need for torturing innocents for their own ends."

"Good." Cross got to his feet, leading her up. "Though I'm afraid you're going to have to rethink your plans for Christian Walker. There is no way the Order can allow a Noah to walk freely."

"You can't, no. Please, General."

"I think that's the first time you've asked me something politely. Sadly, I have to decline. My dear, did you really think you could tell me and I'd walk away?"

"I thought if I agreed to come…"

"Mistaken, I'm afraid. But don't worry. We'll get some sleep now, and in the morning we can find Mana Walker and begin looking for his brother."

"I'm not going to help you."

"You'll probably want to be there when I find him."

"Bastard." She pulled her hand away. I'm going to bed. We'll leave in the morning."

Maria walked towards her room, crunching broken glass into the carpet as she left. She paused at the door.

"Do you have no sense of privacy?"

Cross, a half step behind her, grinned. "No. And I don't trust you. Your window has an incredibly convenient trellis below it, if I remember correctly."

"I wasn't going to run away. I don't abandon my friends to sadists like you."

"I'm sure. Now, shall we?" He opened the door and bowed, waiting for her to enter.

"Thank you." He closed the door behind her.

She crossed the room and lit the oil lamp on the desk next to her bed.

Cross watched as Maria undid the buttons of her gown.

"Why don't you let me tear it off? With that, and the broken glass, and the blood, it will look like a kidnapping. Convenient excuse."

"Do you want the police after us? I'll tell the opera I want a week, tell them I'm going to the countryside to make amends with my relatives. I'm a prima donna. They'll let me have it. This way Sherrill won't come looking for me either, at least not for a while. I can tell you don't trust him."

"Hmm."

She folded the gown and placed it in her wardrobe. Her petticoat and bustle were laid flat in a bottom drawer. Quickly unfastening the busk of her corset, she laid that on top and shut the drawer. At last she could bend over, unlace her boots and shimmy out of her stockings. Only once she was dressed only in her shift, seated at her vanity taking down her hair did Cross take off his coat, boots, hat and gloves. He came up behind her and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

"Do you wear your mask when you sleep?" She asked.

"No."

"Why…"

"It's fashionable." He snuffed out the wick of the lamp, and the room was dark. She heard a small click as he set down the mask on the dresser. She reached out to grab it, but he caught her wrist and pulled her up. She twisted out of his grasp and pushed him backwards onto the bed.

Maybe he was taking her too lightly.

They both got into bed. Cross slept on his stomach, his long hair flung over one shoulder. Maria slept on her back, her arms crossed protectively on her stomach. Cross draped an arm across her chest, but she turned her back to him. In response, he merely turned towards her and drew her closer, his arms wrapped around her waist.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Yes."

"No worse than Sherrill, I suppose."

"Lady, you truly know how to wound me." He moved his hand up and ran a finger across the cut on her chest, the sliced skin knitting itself together underneath his touch. The fresh blue of the bruise beneath faded to yellow.

"Mr. Marian, if only I did."

She smiled, if only a little, before falling asleep.

* * *

Author's note: Hurray for spring break. Sorry it's been so long, but the backstory was particularly hard to solidify. And, as always, we love reviews and definitely want to hear from you!

Love,

La Romanesque


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